Shadows of the Unknown
by WibSkelDS9
Summary: A foe that was once thought to be dead has been resurrected. Can Basil stop his murders and handle falling in love at the same time? My first GMD fic! Rated for language and violence.
1. Prologue

**It's a bad title, yes, but I couldn't think of anything else. I love reviews, so send 'em my way!**

**GMD is copyright to Disney, yes...if it didn't, I would claim ownership of them!**

The female set the chalk down beside her and admired her handiwork. Before her lay a five-pointed star in a circle, adorned by ancient runes. The ominous eye in the center stared unblinkedly at the ceiling. She double-checked the dusty book on her other side to make sure she had the design right. She did. Now she was ready to begin.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a single jet-black hair. Using utmost care, she placed it in the center, on the eye's pupil. She closed her eyes and, concentrating immensely, began to chant:

"**_They mocked you, scorned you,_**

_**called you a rat,**_

_**now is the time,**_

_**take revenge upon that!**_

_**Follow me closely,**_

_**closer, you'll see**_

_**that you are after**_

**_the same revenge as me!_**"

The pentacle glowed purple first, then orange, then a deep blood red as beams of light clawed at the ceiling. A dark figure rose out of the floor, a wild, unseen wind distorting his profile. He levitated a few inches in the air, then fell on his booted feet to the floor. The light faded away, as did the wind, giving the large, broad chested figure more sustenance.

"What is your name?" inquired the female.

"Professor Ratigan," the figure said in a deep voice that was seething with hatred. "Where is he?"

"Patience, Professor," assured the female. "All will become clear soon. Now, listen carefully. Together, you and I will get exactly what we want."

"And what exactly do _we_ want?" queried the rat.

"Why, revenge, of course, Professor," the female grinned. "That _is_ what you want, isn't it?"

Ratigan responded with an evil grin of his own and began to laugh. The female joined him, and soon the cacophony of their laughter could be heard by all the mice in London.

**Bum bum BUM! Do you like it? PLEASE review, but try to be nice!**


	2. Chapter 1

For those of you who haven't guessed, I'm the worst updater in history. I appreciate you waiting so long. Here's chapter 2! Hope you like it!

* * *

The final strains of the song echoed around the room, leaving its haunting but beautiful melody to fade into the silence. Basil of Baker Street set down his violin and sighed as he stared at the empty fireplace, hoping to find something entertaining. Alas, he found nothing. This only added to the most wretched state of boredom he had ever achieved in his lifetime. There had not been a single case for months, and, except for him, the whole of 221 Baker Street was empty. Dawson was visiting family, and Mrs. Judson–

The opening of the front door interrupted his musings. In walked his beloved housekeeper, apparently returned from her errands. She skillfully hung her rain-soaked coat on the coat rack with one hand, as the other was toting groceries. She muttered something like, "Five pounds a gallon, they're mad…" When she bustled past him to the kitchen, Basil felt a letter fall into his lap. "Who is this from?" he inquired curiously, but he dreaded he already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid it'd be Lynda, sir," came the reply, confirming his fears.

Basil cursed under his breath. "Again!? Honestly, when is she going to learn–?"

The front door opening again interrupted him. It was Dawson this time, but it was also a mouse that Basil did not recognize. But he instantly deduced that he was from the Macmillan District, judging by the shabby state of his clothing. He also deduced that he had come with a murder case, as he smelled the unique pungency of blood on the mouse. He had, sadly, recognized the scent out of second nature. He rose to greet them

"Basil," Dawson began. "This chap is Xakery Nicolao. He says he–"

"–Has come from the Macmillan District with hopes that we will help in a murder case." Basil finished, taking a moment to revel in his ego.

As expected, Nicolao looked flabbergasted. "How the blazes did you know that?" he demanded in a somewhat nasal-sounding voice. He was a tall mouse, with long limbs and light brown fur that matched his eyes.

"Quite simple, really," Basil explained. "Your clothing comes from Roddenberry and Co., the only store in the district that's affordable by common folk. And–" he paused a moment to sniff the air. "–If my nose does not fail me, sir, you have been near a particularly bloody crime scene. I know the scent of blood well."

"Amazing," Nicolao stated simply, obviously in awe.

"Actually, it's elementary, my dear Nicolao," Basil responded. "Now, tell me your story, and, pray, be precise."

Nicolao sighed, as thought it was a painful story to tell. "Every so often, a few friends and I get together to talk. But one time, Bill didn't come, and he _never_ missed a date without telling us. We went to his house to see what was going on, and we found him – dead! Ever since, there's been a killing in our neighborhood almost every other day! After yesterday's victim was discovered, someone recommended you."

Basil sat down, stroking his chin thoughtfully. After a moment, he asked, "And you say that you found a body yesterday? Have you moved it?

"Yes, and no," Nicolao answered. We thought you would want to examine the scene, so we left it alone."

With a sudden change of energy, Basil leapt out of his chair, a wild grin spreading over his face. "Ha-ha! Excellent!" he exclaimed.

Basil, wha…?" Dawson queried, looking thoroughly confused.

"Obviously, Doctor, we must investigate immediately, before the trail grows cold," Basil explained, stripping off his robe and pulling on his trench coat and Inverness. "Mr. Nicolao, would you kindly lead the way?"

"With pleasure," Nicolao confirmed, a smile gracing his normally sorrowful face. He opened the door and began the trek. Basil followed, smiling in spite of himself. He hadn't had this much fun since Ratigan was around!

* * *

Well, there it is! And don't worry, chapter 3 is in the works! Nicolao's name was made by surfing since I'm horrible at making names! IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE THIS STORY FINISHED, YOU'LL R&R! XD


	3. Chapter 2

Yesh, here's chap 3. Is it just me, or is Basil getting a little OOC? You tell me. There's another new character in this chap. I'd tell you who it is, but that would spoil your fun! Enjoy!

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"Here it is," Nicolao said, coming to a halt.

Basil stopped and gazed up at the enormous structure. It looked immensely old, like most of the buildings here, but this one was different. It seemed to Basil as though the building itself were mourning the evil deed that had been committed here. He tore his gaze away from the sheer size of the building to stare at the door, which Nicolao said had been forced. Indeed it had, for the door was hanging on to but a single hinge for dear life. One look told him that the assassin had clawed at the door trying to get in, right after nearly crushing the doorknob. Finally, they had given up and simply burst through the door with incredible strength.

"Jamal was a cooper by trade. He only worked here," Nicolao announced, a tinge of sadness still in his voice. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your work. I promised the family I would return. I'll try to be back soon."

"Quite understandable, my good fellow," Basil assured. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention." Then, taking one look at the darkness just inside the door, he stepped into the abyss, Dawson following closely.

It took only a few seconds for Basil to find a lantern on the wall. He lit it with a match from his pocket and lifted it carefully from its hook. As he looked around, he stifled a gasp.

It was totally chaotic scene. Barrels lay everywhere, smashed to pieces. Nondescript tools were scattered helter-skelter. Shelves along the walls were broken, their contents shattered as well. And, to top it all off, in the middle of the floor was a cream-colored mouse lying in a pool of blood.

As Basil got closer, he saw the mouse's lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, his face frozen in terror. Basil felt Dawson shudder beside him as he knelt down, taking out his magnifying glass.

He carefully studies the mouse's wounds. Blood oozed from the wound on his face, back, and chest in the same fashion as the claw marks on the door, if the door had blood. In fact, they were reminiscent of an experience Basil had had not too long ago…

"Basil," Dawson spoke up, seeing what Basil had noticed, "you don't think…"

"No, Dawson," Basil answered, rubbing his upper right arm absentmindedly, as though the scar there was still fresh. "Ratigan is dead. Besides, there are plenty more rats in the sewer. I – "

Basil was cut off by a subtle, but noticeable (by a mouse) noise from the back of the store. He stood, walking in the direction he believed the sound came from. There was a forest of miraculously spared barrels away from the fight. As he got closer, he became more convinced that he was being watched. But as he gave up and was about to turn back, someone, with a mighty cry, jumped out from behind a barrel and dove at him, knocking him down.

Basil squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a hand close around his throat. Then, all of a sudden the grip loosened. He opened his eyes and stared up into his attacker's face. It was a rather attractive female mouse with brown hair that was tied back in a ribbon. The ribbon's grip failed to hold bangs that fell in front of her eyes. Their eyes locked, and Basil saw they were of a beautiful teal color. She lowered her raised fist and scrambled to her feet, an embarrassed and startled look crossing her fair features.

"I beg your pardon," she said in a melodious voice, blushing slightly. "I thought you were someone else."

"Indeed," Basil chuckled, getting up and putting on his fallen deer-hunter's cap. "May I inquire as to whom you were waiting for?"

"Y'never know," she answered indignantly, folding her arms across her chest. "Sometimes the killer _returns_ to the scene of the crime, to remove evidence, or something of that sort."

Basil was taken aback. He had never known a female to be so outspoken and sure of herself. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Jo. Jo Fuller. Ah, don't tell me," she held up a hand when Basil opened his mouth to introduce himself. "You're Basil of Baker Street, aren'cha? I knew Xack was going to try and get you, but I never thought you would do it."

"Well, maybe you should get to know people before you judge them." Basil smiled, knowing her intentions were good.

"I'll do that." Jo flashed him a bright smile of her own. So bright, in fact, Basil thought of calling back to Dawson to blow out the lantern.

"Basil!" Dawson shouted. _Speak of the devil_. The pair ran back to the cadaver.

"Look!" Dawson pointed to the ex-mouse's hand. Therein the grip was a tuft of black fur.

"Excellent eyes, doctor!" Basil complimented, pulling out a hair and examining it with his magnifying glass.

"Mr. Basil! Dr. Dawson!" They all looked up and saw Nicolao coming through the doorway towards them. When he got to them, he looked rather confused. "Jo? What in heaven's name are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Whatever I damn well please, Xacky-boy," Jo shot back angrily. "It's none of your business what I do and where I go. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a child anymore!"

"Please!" Basil interjected. "We have obtained an important piece of evidence, and we must study it carefully if we are to reach a successful conclusion as to the identity of our bloodthirsty assassin!"

Just then, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the night. The foursome turned to the door. It was coming from outside.

"Quickly!" Basil cried, beginning to run. "There's not a moment to lose!"

* * *

Ooh, cliffhanger! Dang this chap took forever to write! Hope you liked it! Reviews make the next chapter come sooner! 


	4. Chapter 3

It's good to be back! I'm sorry I haven't had much motivation lately, but I finally got around to digging out the notebook I was writing this in and typed some up. I've discovered just how much my writing has changed these past few years in the process. Hopefully the next few chapters will be of better quality.

* * *

They soon discovered the screaming originated from a building across the street. The door had been forced in the same fashion as its predecessor. But, this time, lights still flooded the doorway, clearly showing the monstrosity was still in progress.

Basil ran swiftly but silently, trying to avoid being eclipsed by the light. He was followed closely by his friends, old and new. He made sure no one could see them approaching, then signaled for the others to follow as he finished the crossing to the doorway. Once there, he turned to his companions. "Get the family out of the house," he told them. "I'll take care of our mouse-murdering adversary." They nodded, and went up the stairs just inside the door to search. Jo, however, lingered.

"Basil," she said, looking fearful, "what if the worst should happen? What's going to stop them from doing the same thing they did to Bill and –" She broke off, appearing sad and furious at herself at the same time.

Basil patted her shoulder affectionately. "I'll be fine. You'll see me again faster than you can say 'saint loony up the cream bun and jam.'"

Jo stared at him blankly.

"Never mind," Basil chuckled. Jo ascended the stairs, a worried look gracing her features.

Basil followed his instincts as he slunk through the house, listening as the screams got louder and louder still. Then, all at once, they were silenced. He turned in the nearest doorway and saw a large figure standing over a bloody mass of ex-mouse. The figure heard him coming and turned to look him in the face. It was all Basil could do not to cry out.

"_Ratigan!_"

His former arch-nemesis grinned. He was wearing the same tattered clothes that he wore the last time Basil saw him. "Why, Basil! What an unexpected…_pleasure_." He cackled with delight in that gravely way that always made Basil shiver.

"Ratigan, what the – " For the first time in his life, Basil was speechless. "You're dead! I saw you die!"

"Appearances are oft deceiving." The rat's smile faded, replaced by a scowl of rage and loathing. "Now, pleasantries aside, it9s time I did what I should have done THIRTY YEARS AGO!"

He leapt at Basil, landing a punch square in the detective's mouth. Basil recoiled, trying to run, but the rat was just too fast. Fists, claws, and pain seemed to come from everywhere. He tried fighting back, but his feet gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Ratigan then took an ornamental sword off the wall and drove it into the mouse's left shoulder. Basil screamed with agony as he felt the blade pierce the floor beneath him. The rat above him withdrew the sword and raised it over his head, ready to deliver the final blow.

"NO, NO!" cried a voice. "I SAID NOT YET!"

Ratigan looked up, then back down at Basil. He growled, dropped the sword, and left. Basil croaked meekly for help as both consciousness and blood slowly oozed out of his body.


End file.
